No words will suffice. To describe what I am going through. But maybe a song. No kostins.
Welcome my son, welcome to the machine. Where have you been? it’s alright we know where you’ve been. You’ve been in the pipeline, filling in time, provided with toys and ’scouting for boys’. You bought a guitar to punish your ma, And you didn’t like school, and you know you’re nobody’s fool, So welcome to the machine.
Welcome my son, welcome to the machine. What did you dream? it’s alright we told you what to dream. You dreamed of a big star, he played a mean guitar, He always ate in the steak bar. he loved to drive in his jaguar. So welcome to the machine.
The relentless wind. Rather uncanny,really,considering that all that surrounded me was trees and buildings.Buildings with three floors dammit.Buildings that housed none.
Claustrophobia.
No sky to be seen.Only a roof that man did not make. Frogs on the road.Small ones.And yet again ,the not so small.
Nothing new about the path i was tracing . Turned around what would have been a very familiar corner.
A bandicoot.Huge.Looking forlorn.Trying to cross the path i would ulimately take.Just sensable. Could smell it.The rat.
It scurried away.All the world is not jobless An unfamiliar grunt.Huge antlers. Prancer in the death of the night.
With several of its better halves.Looking.But not quite finding.Grunt perhaps explained.
A bed.Near the water.Trying to explain itself. But no.Not without a voice.A bed having a voice at that moment would have most definitely scared me.
Then the emergence of a silver sky.The road ahead wet.Road i stand on dry.
Preferential Rain.
No familiar smell.For this was a place,normally placeable by its smell. An uncomfortable change.Detectable, but fits no mental mould.A change that finds no place to snuggle into in my mind.
Transition period.
And then it hit.
But why?
*Why chapter 3?For the author here wants to go non-linear in blogging.A story that will be told over months.
